


A Short Visit

by olio



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Padme Lives, Satine lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8352133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olio/pseuds/olio
Summary: Padmé visits Satine to try and get her to join the Rebellion





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lastwingedthing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastwingedthing/gifts).



“Padmé! It’s been far too long.”

Padmé doesn’t run—she is far too dignified to run, but she does, perhaps, walk a bit faster than necessary as she moves towards Satine. They clasp hands, the gesture conveying concern, caring, _longing_. “I’ve missed you,” Padmé says, smiling. “We really need to meet up more often than we do.”

“Come,” Satine turns, pulling Padmé along behind her, “let us speak further in private.”

They are already alone—Padmé has done her best to arrive unseen, hood pulled down low over her face, speeder rented under a false identity and left a few minutes’ walk away—but the Empire has tendrils everywhere, and it never pays to be too careful. It has only been a year since the Republic became the Empire, but already Mandalore has become a very different place compared to Padmé’s last visit. Gone is the air of peace, however tenuous its grasp may have been, and war has arrived. Citizens wear their distinctive armor—armor like that of Jango Fett, and so reminiscent of what the clones had once worn that Padmé catches her breath—paranoia palpable in every move.

Luke and Leia are on Alderaan, looked after by Bail and Breha. The Organas had tried to convince Padmé not to go on this mission—their rebellion, fledgling though it may be, has other people, people not nearly so wanted by the Empire—but Padmé had insisted. Satine is her friend, and Padmé knows that if anyone is to have any hope of getting her to abandon her peaceful ideals, it will be someone who knows her, someone she knows is truly out for everyone’s best interests. Padmé is willing to risk whatever it takes to get the assistance they need, even at the risk of her own safety and life.

Stormtroopers roam the streets—“For my own protection,” Satine half snarls as they walk down the hallway, the look of contempt on her face enough to wither any trooper unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity. “My own council voted them in! Oh, but they wove good a tale, convinced themselves _soldiers_ would bring peace when we were faced with crisis, but now the soldiers won’t _leave_.”

“Is there nothing you can do?” Padmé asks. “Surely the council will still listen to you.”

“Oh, they listen, but they will not _act!_ Your Republic promised assistance, then became the Empire, and now they won’t leave. Nothing I say convinces anyone these days.”

 

* * *

 

 

Days pass. Padmé and Satine discuss anything and everything, they argue, they cajole, each trying to make the other see their point of view.

But they hadn't expected the demonstration. They stand at Satine’s window as crowds gather before the palace. Padmé pulls her hood low over her face—it wouldn't do to be caught by the Empire when she isn't even involved in events, no matter how far away she might be—and they watch.

Everything is peaceful and orderly to begin with, but it can't last. The crowd chants in what Padme can only assume is Mandalorian, the syllables unfamiliar to her ear, but Satine's fists clench at her sides. "Out with the Empire," she murmurs, more to herself than to Padmé, "down with collaborators, bring back the old Mandalore."

Then the stormtroopers arrive.

The stormtroopers fire into the crowd, yelling for them to disperse, but Mandalorians are stubborn and refuse to be told what to do. They fight back. It begins well enough, the Mandalorians holding their own, but for every downed stormtrooper, more arrive to take their place, and soon the Mandalorians are overwhelmed, falling one by one, until anyone who hasn’t fled is lying dead or wounded in the square.

Satine stays rooted to ground in front of the window, her horror obvious, yet unable to tear herself away. Only when it is done, when the people are gone, when the soldiers have cleared everyone away—whether through intimidation or through death—does Satine pull away, sagging. Padmé goes to her, hugs her, and tries to give what peace she can, difficult though solace might be after witnessing a horror such as they have.

Padmé wraps one hand behind Satine’s neck and pulls her face down, presses their foreheads together. They stand like that, Satine’s breath ghosting along Padmé’s cheek, and Satine wraps her arms around Padmé’s waist, holding her tight.

“My people,” Satine whispers. “The Empire is killing my people.” Grief and anger color her voice, her anguish as clear as her helplessness.

“Then fight! Join us, rebel against the Emperor. We need to stop massacres like this from happening, and you could do so much good with us.”

“I cannot join your cause. It would betray all my principles to run into battle with the Empire, no matter that they may have struck the first blow.” Satine grasps Padmé’s hand tightly, near pain, but Padmé does not flinch, only grips Satine’s hand back.

“We do what we have to. The horrors the Empire is responsible for continue to grow every day, and it won’t stop unless we can do something about it.” Padmé’s voice is as impassioned as ever, but this is Satine’s way, and she accepts it.

“I know.” Satine smiles, a small, sad smile, before continuing, her voice once again firm. “The Empire may have control, but I refuse to give in. As long as there is still a chance to protest peacefully, that’s what I shall do. However, I will help you if I can. As long as there is no violence, I can help. Food, supplies, whatever I can spare, whatever I can get to you. Just send me word and I’ll organize what I can. And I’m certain some among my people will want to join you, so I will point them your way if I find them.”

“Thank you. Whatever you do, it’s more than we had before, and I am eternally grateful.”

Padmé runs her fingers along Satine’s cheek in a caress, then slowly, ever so slowly, brings their mouths together. The kiss isn’t passionate, but it’s strong, and warm, and Padmé does her best to pour every bit of comfort she can, to show how much she cares, how much _love_ she has for Satine.

They may not have much time together, but they make the most of it.

And when Padmé finally leaves, it is to smiles on both sides, pledges of aid, and whispered promises to each other. They may not see each other in person for a very long time, if they ever again get the chance, but they know they can always rely on one another.


End file.
